Denouement
by Closet Fanfic Fan
Summary: A friend made an interesting comment after seeing the musical with me. This cheerful little story was the result.


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"DENOUEMENT"

By candlelight, the old man looked almost peaceful. But there was no denying the lifeless tilt of his head against his shoulder or the tears that glistened on his pale, sunken cheek. Marius Pontmercy could not bear to look at him, or at the weeping woman dressed in white who clasped the dead man's hand between her two own. This lovely woman who only hours before had stood with him before God pledging her eternal love, trust, honour and respect, sealing her vow with a ring and a kiss that seemed nothing short of a benediction. Then her laughter had seemed to Marius even brighter than the pealing of the church bells. Now the bells were cracked and broken, their clarion call a dirge in this darkened room with only two candles in silver candlesticks to offer their light.

The sheets of paper had fallen to the floor and because he could think of nothing else to do, Marius picked them up. The writing was legible but the lines were uneven, the lettering like that of a fourteen year-old child. He stared blankly at the first line: _This is the final account and confession of Jean Valjean, born in Faverolles in 17--._

After that the lines began to blur and swim before Marius' eyes, seeming nothing more than scratches on the paper. Words that he could shape but could not comprehend. All he could see was Jean Valjean standing before him as he had that final day, seemingly as dense and impenetrable as granite but his eyes were those of an animal weary almost to the point of death, always on the run, never at peace . . .

__

She cannot know, Jean Valjean had said in a strange, choking voice. His hand – so large and strong it had been then – had seized Marius' sleeve but Marius had remained frozen, unable to draw back. _Swear on your soul to never tell her . . ._ and in the ringing silence Marius had found himself replying, _I swear_, and it was as simple as that. He had made his move in this almost incomprehensible game of the fates and already it was too late to take it back. But what else was there for him to do?

Even though he knew he barely had the right to even look at her now, Marius reached out to touch Cosette's shoulder. But his fingers hardly brushed the brocaded silk. Already she had flinched away.

He saw her tremble, bend her lovely head to kiss her father's hands once more. And then she turned to look at him, and all of a sudden Marius wished that she had not. Her face was flushed, her beautiful eyes red and wet with tears. She drew in a shaky breath and her pain seemed physical, as though a cruel fist clenched about her heart, strong and cold as steel.

It was a pain Marius felt within himself. But he hardly dared draw breath.

Finally Cosette spoke. "You . . . you knew."

The fist about Marius' heart clenched even tighter. "I . . ."

But Cosette continued as if he'd never spoken. Her voice was little more than a whisper. "He told me he was leaving Paris. You told me."

"He made me swear that I would say nothing. He didn't want to hurt you." Already the words seemed thin and feeble. "He thought that if you knew . . ."

She shook her head. "You lied to me." She bit her lip as though the words had surprised her too. But she took another unsteady breath and repeated them. _"You lied to me."_

They were face to face but Marius could feel her pulling away, drawing inwards. And he did not know what to do. The first night they'd met he had laid his soul at her feet. Now as a strange veil drew across her, what more did he have that he could offer her? What stronger bond? What higher promise?

"You led me to the altar today promising to share everything with me." She held up her hand, gold band glinting on the third finger. "You gave me this. And all the time you _knew_. And I don't care what he told you – what _right_ did you have to keep that from me?"

It had to be shock, Marius thought desperately to himself. Her voice was so soft and level, it had to be shock. This somehow hadn't quite all registered just yet. But he knew what he was looking at: a woman being forcibly compelled to stare some strange horror full in the face, not knowing whether to stand her ground or to flee.

"Cosette . . ."

__

"Don't touch me."

It wasn't just the vehemence of the words that froze him to the core, it was the reflection of her confusion and anger in her eyes that mirrored it and rendered it forever true. Knowing there was nothing else for him to do, Marius lowered his hands and bowed his head, listening to his wife speak the unspeakable.

__

"Who are you?"

He looked back up at her then. She was twisting the ring about on her finger, still looking at him. Something about her was so wounded and vulnerable that Marius thought it would surely kill him . . . but there was something else as well. He remembered Valjean's words: _She's had enough of tears._ He hadn't really given them much thought but now they made sense. This woman was not some bright angel clothed in flesh and her own mysterious radiance, almost too good for this earthly plane. Although Marius was not quite sure how he knew it, he suddenly understood that Cosette was no stranger to grief and pain. This latest loss was reverberating somewhere deep within her and that's what he saw in her distant stare. Not only betrayal and hurt . . . but recognition.

"Have I lived with a stranger all my life?" she asked softly. "And was I married to one today?"

He should have taken her into his arms then, even if she'd fought against him. He should have held her close and made it clear beyond words that his vows were sincere. That her love had been the salvation of him and he would gladly go over the edge of the world for her.

But instead, terrified by how closed and cold she seemed, Marius said nothing. 

The three of them – one dead, two barely living – remained like that for some time. The candles guttered and flickered. One of them was close to going out, the taper just clearing the top of it burnished silver cup.

Finally, Marius could bear it no more. He rose to his feet, painfully aware of Cosette's averted gaze. He walked across the room and opened the door.

"I'll leave you the carriage," he said into the lifeless air.

She did not reply.

As Marius closed the door behind him, the last thing he saw was Cosette gently close her father's eyes before sinking by his side once more.

It was a long walk home.


End file.
